


I Light A Candle To Our Love

by theworldunseen



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Inspired by Hallmark Christmas Movies, Light Angst, Santa is Real, stocking stuffer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:47:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28457049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theworldunseen/pseuds/theworldunseen
Summary: Jaime is in love with his best friend Brienne, and he thinks she might feel the same way, but something is holding her back.That something? Her dad is Santa Claus.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 21
Kudos: 115
Collections: JB Festive Festival Exchange Stocking Stuffers 2020





	I Light A Candle To Our Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WakingDreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WakingDreams/gifts).



> hi!!!! huge thank you to everyone on the jb discord who let me talk about this idea back in november! i hope it is enjoyable. it was inspired by my love of Hallmark movies where someone is Santa's child. If something doesn't make sense, please attribute it to the magic of Christmas
> 
> WakingDreams, I hope this fulfills your desire for fluff and smut!
> 
> title comes from "Pipes of Peace," originally by Sir Paul McCartney. Listen to the MUNA version, though.

When Jaime had started his job at Stark, Inc., he’d thought it was annoying that the walls of the cubicles were made of glass. Almost everyone ended up taping printouts, photos, and posters on to the walls to give themselves some privacy from their coworkers, so they weren’t staring at each other all day. Jaime ended up doing the same eventually, adding photos of his nieces and nephews, an email he referenced all the time, a few posters from his favorite movies. 

But he left some gaps in the glass because he liked getting little peaks of his coworker, Brienne Tarth.

Brienne Tarth. A mystery wrapped up in an enigma that Jaime, if he had his wish, would spend his whole life figuring out.

At first they hadn’t gotten along at all. Well, Brienne had decided she didn’t like him, and so he decided he didn’t like her back. Their dislike — well, hatred — for each other was cloaked in the barest, coldest civility, which only made it worse. “Mr. Lannister,” she’d write in her emails. “Attached you’ll find the requested documents. Best.” 

He’d angrily type back, “Thank you, Ms. Tarth. I have received your work. I will touch base if further assistance is required.” And he’d glare at her through the glass when one of their other teammates would come over to talk to her and she’d laugh and smile and be all sweetness. Why couldn’t Jaime have some of that sweetness? He wasn’t so bad!

Things finally changed one night when Jaime had been stuck at the office late, and his brother had texted him about how he didn’t think any of them could get together for Thanksgiving this year, and Jaime had just felt so overwhelmed, thinking about the holidays and his family and his mom and the way things would be if she was still there, and all of a sudden he was crying in his cubicle.

He’d thought he was basically alone, just him and the janitorial staff. But someone had tapped him on the shoulder and held out a box of tissues.

Brienne. Where had she even come from? Jaime had wanted to tell her to go away, that he didn’t need her pity, but he took the box of tissues and thanked her. 

“I’m basically done with work,” Brienne said. “Do you want to go grab something to eat?”

They ended up at a diner not that far away, splitting fries and mozzarella sticks and waffles and a bowl of fruit salad Brienne insisted upon to try to balance it out. Jaime had told her a little bit about what had made him upset, and Brienne had comforted him with forthrightness and kindness that just made him feel warm and safe and taken care of. 

And then they talked about other things. An annoying coworker with a cubicle near theirs. The upcoming baseball season. Why tea was better than coffee. A book series they both loved.

In what felt like no time at all, but had actually been hours, their waitress was hovering near their table, trying to get them to leave. Brienne insisted on splitting the bill, but Jaime left an extra big tip. 

The next morning, when Jaime walked by her cubicle, Brienne looked up at him and smiled. He couldn’t help but grin back. 

It was the start of a beautiful friendship.

—

Two years later, he sat on the couch in her small house, sharing a bottle of wine and trying to convince her to come with him to Lannister Christmas.

“I can’t abandon my dad like that,” Brienne said, not for the first time. She was sitting in her old blue armchair, fiddling with something on her laptop. 

“But you don’t even like Christmas at home,” Jaime tried. Brienne was not a Christmas-y person, unlike Jaime. If they’d been at his apartment, they’d be sitting next to his slightly too-large Christmas tree, looking at his growing nutcracker collection displayed in his book shelves. He’d even gotten Brienne her own stocking to hang next to his. Her house contained not a sprig of holly. She rejected holiday scented candles, festive tablecloths, and all twinkle lights. Jaime was baffled by it, but at least now he was used to it

“You don’t like going home for Christmas, either, Jaime.” Well, that _was_ true, but —

“Then let me come with you!” Jaime said. He was worried he was starting to sound like a petulant child, but he was feeling a little desperate. Brienne would be leaving for Tarth in two days, and then he wouldn’t see her again until the New Year. It sounded like an absolute nightmare to have to spend that much time away from her.

“You can’t,” she said, with a finality that almost made him whimper. Maybe she felt it, too, because she finally looked up from her laptop and hit him with those ridiculously blue eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m going to miss you too, but we’re adults and we’ll be OK spending a week and a half apart.” She went back to what she was working on. Jaime dramatically spread out on the couch, hoping he looked dashing and handsome instead of tired and pathetic. 

“Well can I put on a Christmas movie at least?” he asked. Brienne grumbled under her breath. Jaime smiled to himself and picked up the controller, choosing instead an old romcom that both of them loved. They sat in companionable silence, and it would have been perfect if Jaime didn’t have a savage longing for his best friend inside his chest.

He’d gotten used to it, the love he had for Brienne. He was mostly able to convince himself it was a good thing: Being in love with Brienne meant he was a better friend to her, because he wanted the best for her, always. Yes, it meant, he broke his own heart twice a week, but wouldn’t being away from her be worse?

Sometimes he thought he was wrong about his unrequited love. Sometimes he saw Brienne looking at him when she thought he couldn’t see her. Sometimes she would grab his hand during a scary movie or when they were walking through a crowd. Sometimes she would fall asleep leaning against him on the couch, and he thought, “Yes, I’m not out here by myself.” 

But every time Jaime even slightly hinted that there might be something more between them, Brienne got out of the conversation as quickly as possible. If he planned an outing for them that was even a little romantic, she’d cancel or bring along one of her friends. He’d mostly given up on the project at all. He could take a hint.

But Christmas could be a glorious last stand. Out of the hustle and bustle of King’s Landing, he might be able to coax her reasoning out her, convince her to give him a shot. He didn’t want to be a creep who made her feel bad for not feeling the same way, but he didn’t want to let the chance slide by without holding his ground.

Suddenly there was a loud noise, as if something heavy had hit the roof.

“Did you feel that?” Jaime asked. He looked up.

“Oh no,” Brienne said, jumping to her feet. “I think you should go.”

“Go?” Jaime asked. There was another noise, near the chimney. In the chimney? “I think there’s something in the chimney.”

“It’s probably a raccoon,” Brienne said, sounding panicked. “Why don’t you go and I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.” She stood next to Jaime, reaching out a hand to help him off the couch. He swung his feet around and stood.

“I’m not leaving you with a raccoon —”

There was a loud thud as something hit the floor of the fireplace. Jaime wished he had a weapon, a bag, something to handle the wildlife set to wreck Brienne’s house.

But the thing that fell out of the fireplace wasn’t a racoon or fox or a very active squirrel. It was an adult man. An adult man who was clearly Santa Claus.

“Fuck,” Brienne said.

“Brienne!” Santa said. 

“What?!” Jaime said. 

“Brienne?” Santa said again. For a big, tall man, he rose from the fireplace quickly. It felt like he towered over Jaime, thought maybe that was just the sense of awe he felt. He wasn’t wearing the traditional Santa suit — he had on a red plaid coat and warm black pants, a pair of simple work boots — but his big bushy beard was unmistakable. This had to be Santa.

“Hi dad,” Brienne said. “Meet Jaime.”

Jaime fell back on the couch. It felt like the room was spinning. Brienne knelt next to him.

“Jaime?” she asked. “Are you OK?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I was sitting here with my best friend, and then _Santa_ came down the fireplace, and he’s your dad. I need a second.”

Santa laughed his big Santa laugh. “Brienne, you didn’t tell your friend about me?” He sounded as wounded as Jaime did.

“I —” Brienne started, but she couldn’t find what she wanted to say. “It’s complicated,” she landed on. An understatement.

“Your dad is Santa?” Jaime asked. 

“No,” Brienne said.

“Yes,” Santa said. Brienne sighed.

“Well, not technically,” she added. “The Tarths have been Father and Mother Christmas for...longer than we have records for. _One_ of our ancestors was popularized as Santa, and the name stuck. So technically my dad is Father Christmas.” Jaime breathed that in, as if it was a reasonable thing to say.

He looked at Santa — err, Father Christmas? Mr. Tarth.

“Mr. Tarth,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you.” He laughed again, and it was so surreal to hear it in real life.

“Call me Selwyn. It’s nice to meet you, Jaime. I’ve heard a lot of things about you.” Jaime pocketed that for later — he hadn’t thought Brienne and her father were close, but he also hadn’t thought her father was Santa.

“Mr. Tarth,” Jaime said. “Not to be rude, but if you’re really Father Christmas, what do I want for Christmas?” Selwyn cocked one eyebrow and shot a quick look at his daughter, then back at Jaime. 

“Do you really want me to say it?” he asked. His voice was big and booming; there was no one else he could be but Santa. Jaime pictured for a moment Santa’s nice list, and Jaime’s name written next to the thing he wanted most: Brienne Tarth. He felt his face get warm, and it wasn’t from the wine.

Jaime looked back at Brienne, who looked embarrassed. Though she’d been the one who’d kept this from him, he felt bad for her. Obviously this wasn’t the way she’d wanted Jaime to find out. Suddenly, her Christmas-less house made sense to him. He wanted to hug her. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. She shook her head.

“No, I should have told you,” Brienne said. He reached for her hand with his, and she let him take it. 

“You were allowed to tell me when you wanted to,” he said, lowering his voice. But she shook her head. She got up off the floor then and sat on the couch next to Jaime. He kept their hands linked. Selwyn took the armchair where Brienne had been sitting. 

“I finished the wrapping paper designs,” Brienne said to him, then to Jaime — “That’s what I was working on earlier, wrapping paper. I told my dad to come by to pick them up, but I lost track of time. I’m not that involved in the Christmas stuff when I’m not on Tarth, but I do some design stuff and organization for my dad, whatever helps.” Jaime nodded. 

“Christmas is the best time of year on Tarth,” Selwyn jumped in to say. “The whole island works hard to make the magic happen, but then we have a huge dance to celebrate all our hard work on Boxing Day. Brienne always organizes it.” To Jaime, it sounded incredible.

Brienne angled her body toward him. “Do you want to come? You could come.” Jaime’s jaw dropped.

“You don’t have to—”

“I want you to come,” she said. “I do. Come.”

He couldn’t tell her no.

—

They talked about it more the next night, away from Selwyn’s prying eyes and open ears. Brienne came over to Jaime’s, and he ordered her favorite pizza, a brunch pizza with tons of parmesan and runny eggs. It had taken Brienne months to convince him eggs were a good pizza topping, but they were.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jaime asked once they had eaten their fill. Jaime didn’t blame her, but it still stung. They were best friends. Weren’t they?

“I was going to, really. After the holiday,” she said. “I’ve never told anyone about it before, if that makes you feel better.”

“It might,” he said. Brienne smiled at him, and if that was his only Christmas gift it would have been enough. But her face grew serious again.

“I just...growing up there was so much pressure on me because of who my parents were. But it wasn’t so bad, because Galladon was always going to be the next Father Christmas. It was hard for me, trying to figure out what my place would be, but it was OK because I knew the big job would never be mine...but then.”

Jaime knew what happened next — Brienne’s mother and brother had died in a car accident, leaving her and her dad alone.

“My mom became even more beloved by our community, somehow. She was the perfect Mother Christmas. Kind and beautiful and caring and smart. And Galladon was the golden child who was gone too soon. It just felt like I could never live up to them, I’d always be wanting.” She blinked tears from her eyes, but Jaime wished she felt comfortable enough to let them fall. 

“It’s not that I don’t love Christmas” she said, gesturing toward Jaime’s tree. She had helped him set it up and decorated it, and she hadn’t even complained, and now Jaime felt bad about it all. “It’s just that once I left Tarth I felt like I could finally start to figure out who I was: not Selwyn and Alys’ daughter, not Galladon’s sister, but me, Brienne. So I didn’t want to be near all the things that caused me pain. I didn’t want that stuff here.” Jaime could only nod and pour her another glass of water. He wished he could carry some of her anguish for her. 

Because the stalemate Brienne had found in her life would soon come to an end. Right now she had both things — her own life and her Christmas life. But Selwyn needed to start training his replacement next year, as his own term as the man with the bag started to come to a close. If Brienne didn’t choose to claim her birthright and take over, it would go to a distant cousin. She would always be a person from Tarth, and always a part of the island’s work and celebrations, but it would never be the same. And she couldn’t make up her mind about what to do.

“I really don’t have to come if it’ll add too much pressure, or make you uncomfortable,” Jaime said. “I just want to support you however you want me to.”

Brienne smiled again. “I want you to come. You’ll love it. Bring a suit for Boxing Day.”

—

“There was no magical way we could have made this journey?” Jaime was schlepping his luggage off the train at Storm’s End. Brienne, of course, could carry her own bag easily, and had even volunteered to help two nice old people they’d been sitting near. They both thanked Brienne and rolled their suitcases away.

“No,” Brienne said. “Well, kind of, but the trip back home is one of my favorite parts of Christmas.” 

Once Jaime and his suitcase were safely on the ground, he followed Brienne down the platform to the train station lobby. “Why’s that?” he asked. 

“Well the view from the train is beautiful — snow-covered trees on one side, the ocean on the other.” It had been an unseasonably warm year, and there’s been no snow-covered trees on their ride, but Brienne’s voice had gotten uncharacteristically wistful and Jaime had no intentions of stopping her. “But the ferry ride is even better. The water is so beautiful, just endless. And everyone on the boat is so excited, it’s infectious. And then you look out and see home…” She caught herself: “Well, not your home, obviously —”

“That sounds amazing,” Jaime said. He opened the door to the lobby and waited for Brienne to walk through before following her. “I think it’s nice you feel so connected. Just out of curiosity, though, what _would_ have been the magical way?” Brienne laughed and led Jaime over to a sandwich shop where they both got lunch and she refused to divulge the secret to magical transit. Jaime pretended to be put out.

An hour later, they were on the deck of the ferry heading to Tarth, leaving the mainland behind. Brienne looked out at the water, smiling broadly. Jaime looked at her, smiling broadly. Until a huge gust of wind hit him, and he shivered. 

“Do you want to go inside?” Brienne asked. He shook his head. 

“You wanted to stay on the deck.” She laughed. 

“We can go inside for a little bit, Jaime. It’s December.”

He reluctantly agreed, and Brienne led him inside, which was a bit more crowded than the deck, though not as full as he expected. 

“Shouldn’t more people be going home for Christmas?” he asked. Brienne shrugged.

“Most people never leave Tarth in the first place.” She looked around the room, scouting the best place to sit. Her eyes landed in the corner, and Jaime followed her gaze.

A young woman — a teenager, it seemed — was sitting alone at a table in the corner, her face green. She gripped the tables’ edges tightly, clearly trying to get over her seasickness through sheer force of will. Jaime doubted it was going to work.

He was not at all surprised when Brienne walked over to the girl. He could only follow.

“Is it OK if we join you?” Brienne asked. The girl nodded, seemingly too afraid to open her mouth, lest something gross come out. Brienne sat across from her, while Jaime opted for the corner chair. 

“I’m Brienne, this is my best friend Jaime. Is this your first time on the ferry?” The girl nodded. 

“I’m Eirlys. Usually my family takes the seaplane, but no one had time to come pick me up from boarding school,” she said. Brienne nodded. She opened her bag, taking out a big package of saltines.

“A couple of these will settle your stomach, if you want. And Jaime could go to the concessions stand and buy you a ginger tea?” The girl nodded, and reached for her wallet.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jaime said, waving her off. “Bri, do you need anything?”

“Get me a tea too, if you don’t mind?”

Five minutes later, Jaime returned with three cups of tea, which he carefully placed on the table. The table itself was now covered in white paper, as Eirlys drew snowflake patterns, and Brienne carefully cut them out. 

“What’s happening?” he asked as he took his seat. Eirlys was seemingly already cured of her seasickness, chatting happily.

“Brienne said she needed help designing some paper snowflakes, so I’m doing the drawing and she’s cutting with the scissors she had. I don’t know if there’s a job for you…” She sounded bereft.

“I can be moral support,” Jaime said. Brienne snorted before taking a sip of her tea. 

They spent the rest of the trip like that, making snowflakes and laughing. Eirlys told them all about boarding school, her basketball team, her choir. Too soon, the captain announced they were approaching Tarth. They cleaned up in a hurry, and walked out to the deck to watch the final landing.

Tarth was as beautiful as Brienne had said, and even better. Green hills were capped with snow that seemed to sparkle in the sun. Sandy beaches spread out in every direction. The blue waters reflected back at them, casting its otherworldly beauty all around them. And it was all the better seeing it the first time with Brienne by his side.

He turned to her. It looked like she was tearing up, but it might have just been the sun hitting her eyes. 

“You ready?” he asked. She turned to him and nodded. 

—

As soon as they walked off the boat, once again with luggage in hand, and entered the ferry terminal, it felt like Christmas was slapping them in the face. There was a holly, and lights, and candy canes, and trees, and ornaments, and music _everywhere_. There was a man dressed as an elf giving out hot chocolate to all the passengers — wait, a real elf? Jaime still wasn’t quite sure how the Santa-ness of the island worked. He knew a lot, if not most, of the island residents were a part of it in some way, but he didn’t know how that really worked. He happily took his hot chocolate, though, and it was incredible.

Outside the terminal, people waited for their loved ones. Eirlys was embraced by two tall women who must have been her moms. She waved at Brienne and Jaime before walking away with her family. 

Brienne waved at someone else — a tall man with silvery hair and a beard. He was wrapped up tight in a coat and scarf and hat. The man waved back, and Brienne led Jaime toward him. He scooped Brienne up in a big hug, like she was a much younger girl. 

“Goodwin!” she squealed as he tried to lift her off the ground. “Don’t hurt yourself!” He let go and she introduced Jaime to her Uncle Goodwin. They shook hands. 

“Thanks for coming to pick us up,” Jaime said as he led them to his red pickup truck. Goodwin easily lifted their bags into the flat bed, then climbed into the driver’s seat. Brienne took the middle, and Jaime the end — “That way you can see all the sights,” she told him.

And he did, as Goodwin drove away from the cheery, festive small town up into the hills. They passed cottages and houses, all decked out in lights. Lots of people had decorated trees outside their house as well as inside; Jaime almost wanted to take photos so he’d be more inspired for next year. There were light up candy canes and light up gingerbread people and light up reindeer and light up snowflakes on seemingly every house. He could only imagine what it would look like at night.

Brienne leaned over next to him, seemingly reading his mind when she said, “We can do a nighttime tour, too.” 

The whole island just felt cozy and homey and magical. Something about it all made Jaime feel closer to life, closer to the center of it all. Of course this was where Father and Mother Christmas lived. He turned to Brienne, who was smiling widely as she looked out the window. He knew there were parts of this trip she still dreaded, but he was glad some part of it was still joyful and uncomplicated for her. 

Soon, they arrived at Evenfall Hall. It was more a tiny village than a building. There was one large, stone house in the center, with lots of small structures surrounding it. Everything was trimmed in holly and peppermint stripes. Jaime wondered if the decorations were kept up year round. Goodwin parked next to what Jaime guessed were the stables, based on the smell.

“Your dad is meeting with the carpenters union right now, I think,” Goodwin told them as he unloaded their bags. “I’ll let him know you’re here.” As Brienne led Jaime toward the main building, she was quickly accosted by random residents and workers, all cooing over her. She let them hug her and kiss her cheek, but Jaime could tell how each interaction took a little bit from her. To Jaime, their love and affection for Brienne seemed obvious and pure, but clearly that wasn’t the way Brienne experienced it.

After Brienne had introduced him to his fifth baker, he had to intervene. “I think Brienne maybe needs a little rest? It was a long trip getting here, and she had to put up with me.” He pulled out his most charming smile, which seemed to work. One of the bakers — Sigrid, Brienne had said — offered to bring them something to nibble on, but Jaime declined. 

“They’ll bring it anyway,” Brienne said once they were out of earshot, heading up the steps. 

“Then we’ll hide in a wardrobe,” Jaime said, and Brienne’s laugh was worth it.

She let him through the oak, candle-lit foyer, up the grand staircase. Brienne explained that most of the building was workshops and kitchens and meeting rooms, but upstairs was the family residence. She pointed to her father’s room at the end of the hall, her room, and Jaime’s guest room, right next door. 

The bedroom was warmed by a roaring fire. The canopied, wooden bed was covered in a beautiful, intricate quilt. Jaime ran his hand over it, reverently.

“My mom made it,” Brienne said, as she watched him. Jaime looked closer, admiring the red and green fabric that had been sewn into all sorts of complicated patterns. 

“It’s beautiful,” he said. Brienne kicked off her shoes and laid back on the bed. Jaime mimicked her, placing his head on the pillow next to hers. He turned his head to look at her. She was staring at the ceiling. He turned to do the same thing. 

After a long bit, Brienne said, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” Jaime said. 

“I’m not very cheery,” she said. Jaime turned to look at her again.

“You don’t have to be. Be whoever you want to be. I’ll always love you.”

Brienne turned her head then, and opened her mouth to say something. Jaime held his breath, waiting to see how she took his words.

Just then, someone knocked on the door. 

“Come in,” Brienne said, sitting up. She undid her sagging ponytail and redid it. Jaime sat up, too. The moment was lost.

Sigrid opened the door with a tray in hand, laden with crackers and cheese and pieces of fruit and a pitcher of water. It was so considerate Jaime couldn’t be that annoyed.

He was still a _little_ annoyed.

—

The days leading up to Christmas were jam-packed with activities, and Jaime rarely got a moment alone with Brienne to continue their conversation. They set up trees and decorations for some of the island’s older residents, who couldn’t do it themselves. They helped make trays and trays of gingerbread cookies (Brienne’s decorating skills were expert; Jaime was relegated to packaging them all into little plastic bags). They helped feed the reindeer, label presents, and shovel paths and roads when it snowed overnight. 

Seemingly every person on the island knew Brienne, and Jaime could see how that made her uncomfortable. He knew she felt judged, but to Jaime’s eyes she just seemed deeply cherished. Every person was grateful for her help. Every person smiled when she had her back turned. Or they’d pull Jaime to the side and ask him what he got her for Christmas, if he was taking good care of her, if she was happy on the mainland. They all assumed he was her boyfriend, and he didn’t quite disabuse them of that notion because it felt so nice.

Brienne was also in charge of finishing coordinating the Boxing Day dance, and Jaime ran all sorts of errands to help her. He went around and asked what felt like 100 people what they were bringing for the potluck. He didn’t even mind having to remind them that he’d never been to the dance before when they all said, “the same thing I do every year.” 

On Christmas Eve Eve, he had to head to the florist, Rhoslyn, bright and early to double check that their poinsettia order would be ready for the dance. Brienne was worried she’d ordered too many.

“You tell her not to worry for a second,” Rhoslyn said when Jaime raised Brienne’s concerns. She was a solid woman with kind eyes and a messy knot of brown hair on top of her head. Her small store was absolutely bursting with flowers and greenery, so Jaime didn’t think Brienne’s concerns that Rhoslyn was overwhelmed were so far off-base. 

Rhoslyn shot him with a sharp look, like she could hear his thoughts. He might have flinched. 

But instead of telling where he could shove it, Rhoslyn said, “You love her, don’t you?” 

“I —” What was it about Tarth and their inhabitants? Did the magic of Christmas turn them all into seers? “Very much,” he said. Rhoslyn nodded, like she hadn’t expected anything less from him. 

“I’ll make you something special for the dance, then. Just come pick it up in the afternoon.” Jaime nodded, dumbstruck. “Our Brienne deserves something lovely from a fella like you.”

With that, he couldn’t disagree.

—

Christmas Eve. Everyone’s personal plans fell to the side as they came together to make sure Father Christmas and the reindeer made it into the sky for the biggest night of the year. Jaime and Brienne helped the cooks hand out sandwiches — amazingly delicious sandwiches — for dinner so no one had to stop working to eat. The magic in the air was infectious.

Before the sleigh took off, the whole village gathered in the square of Evenfall to see Father Christmas off. Selwyn was wearing _the_ suit, and Jaime wondered how anyone could believe one of those department store Santas was the real thing. The velvet was so smooth and soft looking, the buttons so shiny, the fur almost sparkling. The reindeer all wore red ribbons, with bells attached to their harnesses. 

Jaime and Brienne stood near Santa as the square filled with people. 

“Why does everyone have paper lanterns?” Jaime asked.

“Oh no, I forgot to get you one,” Brienne said. “It’s a tradition before Father Christmas takes off. We send the paper lanterns into the sky to light the way.” She held hers out to Jaime. “We could light it together?” 

He nodded. All around them, people of all ages were lighting theirs. He pulled a lighter out of his pocket, and lit the candle while Brienne held it aloft. He slipped the lighter into his pocket, then grabbed the lantern with Brienne.

“Ready?” she asked. She looked so beautiful, lit by the small fire and smiling at him. He found himself blinking back tears. He wished this moment would stretch just a little longer, giving them more time here together in this perfect instant. 

He nodded. Together they lifted the lantern into the air and let go. It floated away with its brethren, over Tarth and toward the mainland. Everyone’s eyes were on the sky, but Jaime couldn’t take his own off Brienne. 

It wasn’t right to tell her how he felt in the midst of the decision weighing on her. But he wished he could find it in himself to be a little more selfish and say, “By the way, I’m desperately in love with you.”

They heard bells behind them and turned. Selwyn waved at the people as the sled took off, gaining speed until it was in the air. Everyone cheered and shouted until the sleigh couldn’t be seen in the sky anymore. Then, everyone began to scatter, heading back to their homes. Brienne had warned Jaime that everyone basically chilled out between now and Boxing Day, taking a well-needed, restful break. 

He looked at Brienne, to see what she wanted to do. But she was wiping her face, which was covered in tears.

“Brienne?” he asked, putting a hand on her arm. She tried to shake him off. “Brienne, hey,” he whispered. “Why don’t we go walk it off a little?”

She nodded. He took her left hand, her other one still trying to wipe her tears. He noticed that some people who’d lingered had noticed Brienne was upset, and did his best to hustle her out of there before anyone noticed. They were some ways from Evenfall before Jaime slowed down. They were in what Jaime assumed was a meadow when it wasn’t winter — for now it was just a field of snow. 

Jaime let go of Brienne’s hand and watched her pace back and forth. He knew she’d say what was bothering her when she wanted to. For now, he stood there, trying to give her space while still keeping an eye on her. Eventually she stopped pacing, hands on her hips.

“I just...I don’t know if I can do this,” she said. She wiped tears again. Jaime approached her, and she wrapped him in her arms. He held her for a long moment.

“I think you can,” Jaime said. “If you want it, I think it can be yours.” He felt her shake her head.

“My brother was...so strong and fun. Everyone loved him. He’d have been the perfect Father Christmas. And my mom? She was perfect.” Her sniffles wet his jacket, not that he cared. “She was the kindest, most generous person in the whole world. I couldn’t be like that no matter how hard I tried.”

Jaime took a step back so he could look at her. He lifted her chin with one hand.

“But you are those things, Brienne,” he urged. “I know it must feel different living it, but every single person here adores you. I’ve seen it all week, they couldn’t stop telling me about it. And generous? Who’s more generous than you? You helped that girl who was getting sick on the boat, you helped that old couple with their luggage, you’ve helped every person here without a complaint all week. And you helped _me,_ the very first night you asked me if I was OK. And I wasn’t, but you made it OK, with your kindness and goodness and giving heart. So don’t tell me you don’t have it in you to do this, because I know you do.”

Brienne gave him a watery smile.

“So if you don’t want to be Mother Christmas,” Jaime continued, “that’s one thing. But if you’re only afraid you can’t do it, I know you can.” Brienne took his hands in hers and squeezed.

“That’s not the only thing I’m afraid of,” she admitted. Jaime tilted his head. “It’s you.” She sounded sad.

“Me?” he repeated. “Why me?”

“Because…” She sighed. “This is terrible to talk about.” 

“We don’t have to,” Jaime offered. Brienne, his brave Brienne, shook her head.

“No, I need to,” she said. “I know that you — that me and you — that we could be. More.” Jaime’s jaw dropped, just a little. “And I’ve run away from it because of this.” She gestured toward Evenfall behind them. 

“Why?” Jaime asked. Brienne laughed, but it had no humor in it.

“What was I going to say? ‘Jaime, I love you but one day I’m going to be Santa Claus and if you don’t want that we shouldn’t be together?”

“You love me?” he asked quietly. Their hands still linked, Brienne pulled him a little closer. 

“I do,” she said. “But I can’t make you sign up for all this, it’s cra—”

“Why not?” Jaime asked. “You...God, Brienne. I love you. You could tell me you were the daughter of the devil and I’d have to go live in hell with you, and I’d stock up on bottled water and pack my bags.”

Brienne smiled widely, though her eyes were still teary.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said. “This is serious.”

“I am serious,” Jaime countered, unable to keep a smile off his face. “You know I love Christmas, and, more importantly, I love you. Please don’t let me keep you from doing anything you want.”

“Really?” she asked tremulously.

“Really.”

Brienne let go of his hands and grabbed him around the waist. As she pulled him to her, her lips found his. He gasped and grabbed Brienne by the belt loops. 

Brienne’s lips were soft and sweet and tender. To have her finally near felt surreal, but perfectly right. They loved each other.

As they kissed, it felt like they were the only two people in the world, cradled by a silent, gentle night. 

—

They slept in on Christmas Day. When Jaime finally woke, he found Brienne in bed next to him, rubbing sleep from her eyes but already smiling.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” he said, rolling over to kiss her. They wrapped themselves around each other.

“Merry Christmas,” she whispered into his neck. 

They had stayed up late the night before, cuddling and whispering secrets and promises back and forth. Jaime didn’t remember falling asleep, but he knew this was the best Christmas morning he’d ever had. 

“Do we have to get up yet?” he asked. He had no idea what time it was. 

Brienne shook her head.

“We have to meet my dad and Goodwin for a late lunch. We have time.”

Jaime liked the sound of that. Time was the only gift he needed this year. 

He pressed his lips to her neck, leaving a trail of kisses heading out to her shoulder. Last night, she’d presented him with a pair of Christmas pajamas to match her own, old fashioned with red and green plaid and lots of buttons. He slid his hands in between their bodies so he could undo her buttons. Brienne squirmed beneath him.

“I can do that,” she said, but it sounded kind of breathless. He kissed her lips again as he got to the end of the buttons.

“I wanted to,” he said, and with a flourish he pulled her shirt open. He took a second to grin down at her, but she took advantage of it and pushed him onto his back, so that she was hovering over him. He laughed as she sat up and took off her shirt the rest of the way, before applying herself to Jaime’s buttons. He watched her as she worked, her teeth worrying her lower lip as if the task called for intense concentration. She was just so _adorable._ He loved her.

“I love you,” he said as she finished, just because he could. She laughed, short and sweet.

“I love you too,” she said, letting herself fall forward so that her chest lined up with Jaime’s. She kissed him and he held her closer, his tongue exploring all the contours of her mouth. After years of friendship, he felt like he knew her so well. It was a delight to realize all the things he didn’t know, all the things he could take his time to discover now.

Brienne sometimes hid her confidence away, but not now. She was strong and confident and brave and tender. Bathed in the sunlight coming through the window, she seemed divine, otherworldly. She stood up to take off her pants and underwear, then undressed the bottom half of Jaime, too. Then she laid next to him, pulling him closer once more. 

He traced the curves of her waist, her hips, her ass. He was a supplicant who’d come here to worship at her altar. She grinded against him, sending all his blood and thoughts south. She kissed her name from his lips. 

“I need you,” he whispered against her mouth. She nodded. He knew they didn’t have to rush, but in this moment he felt desperate for her. 

“Do you have condoms?” she asked. His right hand had just reached the juncture of her thighs, where she was wet and wanting. He stroked her seam with one finger, getting lost in the sensation for a moment.

“I do,” he admitted. He still didn’t want to move. 

“Well go get them, cowboy,” she said, lightly tapping his ass. 

As fast as he could, he rolled out of bed and found his suitcase, then the condoms inside the suitcase. He pulled one out, and raised it in the air, feeling very heroic. 

Brienne laughed at him. He turned and saw her laying on the bed, lips swollen and hair askew. She was perfect in every way.

He put on the condom, then crawled over to her again. She stroked him for a moment, and he reached between her legs again, entering with one finger and then another. Brienne gasped.

“I’m ready,” she said. “Jaime, please.”

She didn’t have to ask again. He wrapped his arms around her legs to lift them up as he entered her. They sighed in unison, luxuriating in their closeness. 

Jaime slowly built his pace. He kept his hands on her legs, so Brienne reached down to touch her clit as he went faster and faster.

“Jaime,” she moaned, and it was maybe the best sound he’d ever heard. “Jaime.”

“I’ve got you,” he said. “Come for me.”

“Jaime — I — Ahhh”

He felt her flutter around him, and he followed, collapsing on top of her. They stayed there for a long time catching their breath. 

“I should go pee,” Brienne said eventually, and Jaime chuckled. “Sorry, that wasn’t romantic.”

Jaime kissed the crown of her head. 

“Everything is romantic with you.” Brienne hit his chest playfully. 

“You’re going to be a sap for the rest of our lives, aren’t you?”

—

Selwyn gave Jaime a knowing look when he and Brienne arrived at lunch hand and hand, but all Jaime could do was laugh.

“What?” Brienne asked. 

“I’ll tell you later.”

The rest of the day passed in cozy comfort, eating delicious food and even better cookies.

All that rest was needed, since Boxing Day was another marathon as Brienne finished getting the dance ready. She handed Jaime a list of tasks, and that was the last time he saw her until it was time for them to get dressed and head over.

Jaime waited for Brienne at the bottom of the stairs. In his hand, he held the corsage he’d picked up from Rhoslyn earlier. It was mostly greenery mixed with baby’s breath and holly berries. It was perfect.

He paced back and forth, trying not to look like a stressed out loser. He jumped when he heard someone at the top of the stairs.

It was Selwyn, dressed in his finest. He wore a dark green suit with a red, patterned Christmas sweater underneath, and a collared shirt under that. He came down the stairs, chuckling at Jaime.

“Good evening,” Jaime said, trying to maintain some of his dignity. Selwyn put one of his enormous hands on his shoulder. 

“Good evening,” Selwyn repeated. He rubbed his hand across Jaime’s shoulder, the smooth velvet of his dark green evening jacket. “I like the jacket.”

When Brienne had told him to bring a suit for Boxing Day, Jaime had run out during his lunch break the next day to get something appropriately festive. He wore it with a white shirt, no tie, and his best-fitting pair of slacks. 

“Thank you, sir.” Selwyn laughed again and slapped him on the back.

“I’ll see you over there.” With that he opened the door and slipped outside. 

“Hey.” Brienne.

Jaime turned. She was standing at the top of the stairs, smiling down at him. “Hi.”

“I figured you’d wait for me in your room,” she said. Her hands gripped the bannister. He grinned.

“Well I wanted to watch you make an entrance.” She tsked, but smiled, too.

Brienne looked incredible. She was wearing a blue velvet dress with a big slit, her leg peeking out. Her hair hung loosely at her shoulders, near where the neck of the dress fell into a V. 

Jaime wolf-whistled as she walked down the steps. She was the best thing he’d ever seen.

When she reached the bottom, he held out the corsage. “I got you this? Is it too corny?” Brienne gave him her wrist.

“It’s perfect,” she said as he put it on her. She leaned forward and kissed him gently. “Ready?”

He put a hand on her back, touching her skin where the dress was backless. 

“Yes, love,” he said. Brienne turned to him and smiled, her face suddenly a little pink. He leaned in quickly and kissed her right there, the apple of her cheek. 

And they spent the night dancing in the winter wonderland Brienne had made.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> a big thank you to everyone who read this, or anything i wrote, and everyone who ever posted a fic. the words you gave so freely were a balm during this stupid year.


End file.
